Little Poems for Little Readers1860 - 144 psl. |
Kiti leidimai - Peržiūrėti viską
Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
66 FROM COTTAGE angels BATTLE OF BLENHEIM beautiful beneath bless blest bower breast breeze bright cheer chosen tree clouds COTTAGE BREAD cowslip cried dear doth dove dwell e'en earth English boy eyes fair Father William fear flower forget to pray Forget-me-not gentle God's GOLDEN RULE gone grace green grief happy hath hear heart heaven heavenly HEMANS holy hour Jesus kind lesson LET ME RING light little birds little child little children little lamb look Lord lowly mild mother neath never night NIGHT SONG o'er OLD STONE WALL pass'd play poor porringer praise prayer pretty river ROBERT K round Saviour shining sing sleep smiled snowdrops soft song Songs of praise sorrow Speak gently sunny sweet tears tender thee thine things thou thought Thy little to-day Twas violets voice watchful WILLIAM TELL wing words young youth
Populiarios ištraukos
17 psl. - Old Kaspar took it from the boy, Who stood expectant by; And then the old man shook his head, And with a natural sigh, ' 'Tis some poor fellow's skull,' said he, 'Who fell in the great victory.
65 psl. - I wish that his hands had been placed on my head, That his arm had been thrown around me, And that I might have seen his kind look, when he said, " Let the little ones come unto me.
66 psl. - The rich man in his castle, The poor man at his gate, God made them high and lowly, And ordered their estate.
19 psl. - They say it was a shocking sight After the field was won; For many thousand bodies here Lay rotting in the sun; But things like that, you know, must be After a famous victory. "Great praise the Duke of Marlbro' won, And our good Prince Eugene.
66 psl. - ALL things bright and beautiful, All creatures great and small, All things wise and wonderful, The Lord God made them all.
38 psl. - LITTLE drops of water, Little grains of sand, Make the mighty ocean And the pleasant land.
9 psl. - You are old, Father William, the young man cried, And pleasures with youth pass away, And yet you lament not the days that are gone, Now tell me the reason, I pray.
56 psl. - And often after sunset, Sir, When it is light and fair, I take my little porringer, And eat my supper there.
20 psl. - And everybody praised the Duke Who this great fight did win.' 'But what good came of it at last?' Quoth little Peterkin: — 'Why, that I cannot tell,' said he, 'But 'twas a famous victory.
74 psl. - HOW doth the little busy bee Improve each shining hour, And gather honey all the day From every opening flower...